They Made The Devil So Much Stronger Than A Man
by blackdragonsghost
Summary: When an Italian vampire is hired as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, problems arise. Hogwarts already has a resident vampire... and he doesn't like the way the new teacher is looking at his mate. Drarry: has Vampire!Draco and lots of smut. Not HBP- or DH-compliant.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: I'm addicted to vampire!Draco fics, so I figured I'd write one myself. Plus I recently found a copy of a short story anthology dedicated entirely to vampires amongst my belongings (now that my apartment has finally dried out), and I've been on a major vampire kick ever since. I've been rewatching most of the Dracula movies too: I firmly believe that the 1979 version with Frank Langella is the ultimate best vampire movie of all time. This fic will probably be a two-shot, possibly a three-shot depending on reader reaction (hint, hint - review!). **_

_**Warnings: Serious smut, sort-of lemon, language, you get the picture. Take the rating seriously, people, 'cause I mean it. **_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, because if I did, ooh... it would not be appropriate for children, let's just say that. First off, they'd be Harry and Draco Potter-Malfoy. Secondly, Sirius would be alive and kicking - and in bed with Remus. Thirdly, Severus would be mourning James, not Lilly. Yeah, I have somewhat unorthodox taste in pairings. So sue me. (Actually, please don't. That's the point of this disclaimer!)**_

_**A.N.2: This is, probably, the most smut I've ever written in a single chapter of a fic. Like, seriously. This is pretty hot stuff. Not to say that I'm patting myself in the back - on the contrary, I have no idea if this is any good at all. I've written pretty heavy stuff before, but that was in a different fandom, one where NO ONE EVER REVIEWS. It's like a fanfic-author's definition of hell. Except that said fandom also has Gerald Tarrant, which is fanfic-author's heaven, so... it all balances out. Anyway, the point is, I've never gotten any feedback on that sort of thing, so please tell me if the smut parts are good. Which constitutes most of the fic, actually, so... yeah. I realized afterward that this might be pushing the whole rating issue, but I couldn't bear to edit, so you're getting the full steamy version. Besides, I've seen worse on here. **_

_**A.N.3: Fic title is a line from Hellfire, from Disney's the Hunchback of Notre Dame. The song Draco sings later in the fic is called Cold Blows The Wind, by Bellowhead. It's a very old English folk song, about a young woman who mourns her dead lover so strongly that she keeps his spirit from resting in peace, until he awakens and convinces her to let him go. It's both romantic and quite morbid, and I think that's exactly what vampire!Draco would be like. **_

_**A.N.4: I realized after this was mostly written that, at least as far as I remember, only seventh-years are eligible for the role of Head Boy or Girl. However, for reasons of plot (more like reasons of smut) that was inconvenient, so let's just say that they can be picked as early as sixth year. **_

When Professor Dumbledore made the announcement, there was stunned silence throughout the Great Hall. Finally, someone at the far end of the Gryffindor table asked in a trembling voice, "A - a vampire?"

Dumbledore nodded, beaming, eyes twinkling brilliantly. "Precisely. Without further ado, please welcome Professor Stefano Calvierri."

The tall, dark-haired, somber-looking man rose and bowed. The applause was widespread, but somewhat stilted. Ron looked over at Harry, blue eyes wide. "Blimey, a real vampire? You'd think that after Lupin Dumbledore would have learned his lesson!"

Hermione was sitting on the edge of her seat, quivering with excitement. "A real vampire for a DADA teacher! That's amazing, most vampires wouldn't be willing to share any of their knowledge with humans: they're very secretive!"

"You're telling me." Harry muttered under his breath, careful to keep his voice low enough that his friends didn't hear. They, of course, had no idea that there was already a vampire in Hogwarts. Speaking of which...

Harry glanced curiously across the Hall to the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was glaring up at the staff table: it was too great a distance to be certain, but Harry thought he could see the faintest hint of fangs poking past the pureblood's upper lip. Carefully biting back a grin, Harry looked back down at his dinner. If Draco was already getting territorial, tonight was going to be _brilliant_.

Harry had found out that Draco Malfoy was a vampire during fifth year. The young vampire had been prowling around late at night as part of his 'Inquisitorial Squad' duties, and had caught Harry on the way back from a DA meeting. Harry remembered that night as vividly as though it had happened only days before. It had been only days before Halloween...

**Flashback:**

_Harry hurried down the corridor toward Gryffindor Tower, heart pounding. How the hell had he lost track of time like that? With the number of students now part of Dumbledore's Army, it would be a miracle if they all made it back to their dormitories without being set upon by a teachers - or worse yet, someone in Umbridge's accursed Inquisitorial Squad. _

_He heard a soft sound behind him and spun around, skidding to a halt, his heart racing with exertion and fear. The shadowy corridor looked deserted, the moonlight giving only the faintest trace of illumination. He stood stock still, his hand clutched tightly about his wand, peering warily into the darkness. _

"_Who's there?" he asked, quietly enough that if there wasn't really someone already there, the sound wouldn't attract unwanted attention from elsewhere. _

_A soft, low chuckle echoed through the darkness. Harry jumped involuntarily, taking a step backward, unsettled by the sound. He tightened his grip on his wand, hand starting to shake slightly. The finely honed instincts for danger that he had developed over the years were tingling urgently, warning him, but he couldn't pinpoint the source. A shockingly familiar voice spoke, unsettlingly close to him. _

"_A little late for you, isn't it, Potter? Shouldn't you be sound asleep, safe in your bed in your precious Lion's den?"_

"_Malfoy?" Harry said, still staring around the hallway in shock. "Where are you?" _

_The low chuckle sounded again, then Harry felt cool breath on the back of his neck, chill and startling. "Right here."_

_Swallowing a yelp, Harry whipped around, wand raised high. Malfoy was leaning against the wall a few feet away, smirking, his arms folded over his chest. He raised one eyebrow elegantly, lips curling in a mocking smile. "Skittish at night, aren't you, Potter? Afraid of the big bad Dark Lord... or just me?"_

_Harry stared at him, unable to process that. Oh, it was an insult, but it was uttered in an almost teasing tone of voice, and the blond looked entirely too cheerful for Harry's peace of mind. "What the hell, Malfoy?"_

_The Slytherin laughed softly. The sight was rather entrancing: his eyes fell half-closed, long lashes brushing over his pale cheeks as his head tipped back against the wall, exposing the lean column of his throat..._

_Harry's cheeks burned as he realized the path his thoughts had strayed down, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. Just because he was starting to question his sexuality didn't mean he was attracted to **Malfoy**, of all people. _

"_Look, Malfoy, can you just dock however many points you're going to take and let me get to bed? It's been kind of a long day, and I'm beat." As he spoke, he unconsciously scratched at the viciously itching scabs on the back of his hand, where the words **I Must Not Tell Lies** were carved into his flesh. The scabs pulled and tore, allowing a slender trickle of red to flow over his skin. "Shit!" He clamped his hand over the wound, blocking the flow of blood. _

_Malfoy's head snapped upright again, and a disturbing look of hunger filled his grey eyes, pupils dilating visibly as he pushed off of the wall and walked closer. Harry froze, deeply unnerved and considering the wisdom of just bolting: this strange, almost otherworldly Malfoy was seriously creeping him out. Malfoy's expression was a strange mix of hunger and concern, though, as he looked at Harry. _

"_You're bleeding." It wasn't a question. Harry blinked. _

"_Yeah, how did you know?" He started to wipe the blood from his hand onto the leg of his trousers, but Malfoy was faster: a pale hand shot out and grabbed Harry's wrist tightly, dragging his hand up. Harry gasped involuntarily: Malfoy's skin was cold as ice, so chill it almost burned. Malfoy seemed oblivious, but his eyes narrowed dangerously as he saw the words carved in Harry's skin. _

"_That bitch..." Malfoy looked back up into Harry's eyes, his pupils even larger than before: it was decidedly eerie, seeing his eyes almost completely black. "How long has this been going on?"_

_Harry hesitated, bewildered. Why was Malfoy acting so strange - or concerned for his welfare, for that matter? And why was Harry's heart suddenly beating so fast? "Since the start of the year. Every time I get detention."_

_Malfoy made a peculiar hissing noise, then he lifted Harry's hand further, bowing his head-_

_Harry's breath caught sharply in his throat, and the floor seemed to lurch underneath him. Malfoy was **licking** the cuts on the back of his hand, lapping at the carmine droplets like they were some kind of chocolate delicacy. The Slytherin's tongue was as cold as the rest of him, and the sensation felt so good yet so wrong at the same time that Harry staggered. Malfoy moved forward with blurring speed, catching Harry with an arm around the waist and guiding him to lean against the wall, his eyes shimmering strangely as he did so. "Easy, Harry. Relax, and this won't hurt." His use of Harry's first name did nothing to steady the off-balance Gryffindor._

"_What..." Harry started, bewildered, but the sentence dissolved in a choked-off moan. Malfoy had raised Harry's arm again, and **bitten** Harry's hand, right on the cuts. The bite didn't hurt - there was a strange sensation of cold that seemed concentrated in two sharp points, like someone was poking him with two little icicles - but the main reaction of Harry's body was a near-overwhelming wash of pleasure that made his knees go weak. Malfoy shifted his mouth, nipping a few more times, then he lifted his head and admired his handiwork. Harry's jaw dropped. _

_The torn flesh was healing right before his eyes, the small tears that Malfoy had made along with the words from the blood quill. They simply healed over and disappeared, the skin repairing itself like Mrs. Weasley's enchanted knitting, even erasing the beginnings of a scar from the repeatedly engraven words. Harry jerked his eyes up to meet Malfoy's expectant gaze, the Gryffindor's heart beating as though trying to break free of his chest as he whispered, "Merlin... Malfoy, what **are** you?" _

_The blond chuckled, licking his lips in an almost obscenely sensual way, his eyes glittering. "Why, Harry, can't you guess?" He leaned forward until his mouth was only an inch or so from Harry's ear, and the paralyzed Gryffindor could feel the other boys' breath on his skin: cold, as cold as the rest of him. "There's more than one reason why they call me the Prince of Slytherin, Harry." Malfoy purred into his ear. The sudden flutter of a cold tongue on his skin made Harry whimper softly, the sound almost suppressed yet escaping anyway. Laughing softly, Malfoy drew back enough for Harry to see his face, and smiled. _

_The action revealed long, glisteningly white fangs that reached from his gums almost down to his lower lip, slightly curved and razor sharp._

_Harry nearly stopped breathing altogether, his eyes huge as he stared up at Malfoy in shock. "You're - you're a vampire!"_

"_Of course." Malfoy purred, his eyes narrowing slightly. "If anyone had bothered to inform you of the important details of the wizarding world, you would know that the Malfoy line has been interwoven with the Tiarnaí Scáth clan for centuries."_

_Harry's head was spinning now, but he clutched at the tidbits of information like a lifeline. "Tiarnaí Scáth? What the hell is that?"_

_Malfoy smirked. "It's Old Irish for Lords of Shadow, you plebeian." The insult sounded almost fond. "They're the royalty of the Irish vampire clans. Ironically enough, they were also responsible for the near-extinction of the human Finnegan line... but for now, you don't need to worry about any of that." He leaned in even closer, his eyes fluttering half-shut again as he inhaled Harry's warm, human scent, the look of undisguised hunger spreading over his face once more. "All you have to do, is relax... and feel."_

_His lips crashed down onto Harry's, cold and hungry and demanding. Harry shuddered as he felt the vampire's cold arms wrap around him, lifting him away from the cold stone and into an even colder body. The sheer amount of **cold** should have made him shy away, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect: he found himself draping his arms around Malfoy's neck and arching up into his embrace, desperate to feel more of that glorious chill. He felt more than heard a minute chuckle against his mouth, then a slick, icy tongue was sliding along his lips and he instinctively parted them, inviting the vampire in. _

_Another of those strange, hungry hissing sounds, and Malfoy dove in, his pale hands gripping Harry's shoulders almost painfully as he thrust his tongue deep into the Chosen One's warm, inviting mouth. Harry whimpered involuntarily as the vampire's long nails dug into his skin. Surprisingly, Malfoy's hold loosened slightly, and Harry relaxed enough to return the kiss - passionately. Malfoy's tongue curled and twined with his own, coaxing Harry to respond, and there was no human being who could have resisted that invitation. _

_Eventually, the vampire let him up for air. Harry sagged slightly in Malfoy's arms, gasping and flushed, feeling as breathless and weak-kneed as if he'd just run a mile. He was achingly hard and absolutely desperate for more, never mind that until today he'd forced himself to hate the Slytherin for being a stuck-up snob. Malfoy gazed down at him, his eyes filled with unfathomable hunger, and murmured, "Tell me to stop, Harry. Tell me to stop now, and I'll leave and never touch you again."_

_For some reason, the thought of that - the thought of Malfoy just walking away and leaving Harry there, alone - made the Boy Who Lived's heart ache. "Don't." he pleaded softly, almost voiceless, clutching at the blond helplessly. "Please, Malfoy, don't leave, don't stop."_

_A smile spread across the blond's face, a rare, genuine smile with no trace of a sneer. "Call me Draco," he whispered, then he pressed Harry hard against the wall and sank his fangs into the Gryffindor's throat. _

_Harry keened as another wave of intolerable pleasure rolled over him, leaving him drowning in ecstasy. Draco's fangs tugged roughly at the soft skin of his throat, tearing through flesh and muscles until hot blood splashed freely into the vampire's waiting mouth. Draco moaned too then, the sound setting Harry's senses on fire: he bucked helplessly into the blond's embrace, his eyes fogging over from the mixture of blood loss and bliss. _

_Lost in the excruciating pleasure of the bite, Harry nearly blacked out as his orgasm crashed over him, leaving him weak and helpless in the vampire's arms. Draco's fangs were still buried in his neck, sucking greedily at his blood, his tongue lapping wetly over Harry's skin. Dazed and disconnected from the force of his climax, Harry rested limp and compliant between the hard stone and Draco's lean body. He dimly felt Draco's fangs slip free of his flesh and his cold tongue soothe away the wound, then Draco lifted his head, licking his lips hungrily as his shining silver eyes fixed on Harry's face. _

"_You taste like heaven." he breathed, dipping down to press a swift kiss on Harry's lips. Harry tasted the faint bitterness of his own blood in Draco's mouth, finding it repulsive yet strangely compelling. He fought to regain some control over his lax muscles, blinking up at Draco at he whispered breathlessly, "Wha... what happens now?"_

_Draco smiled. "Now, I take you back to Gryffindor Tower." he murmured, laying a last, possessive kiss on Harry's mouth. He could feel the cold rasp of Draco's fangs against his swollen lips. "You go to sleep like a good little Gryffindor, and wake up in the morning and go about your life... and three days from now you'll meet me here, same time same place, and we'll discuss things then. Alright?"_

_Harry barely had time to nod before exhaustion and loss of blood overcame him and he slid down into darkness. _

**End Flashback:**

"HARRY!"

Harry jolted slightly, blinking to find that Hermione was waving her hand in front of his face, looking exasperated. He offered a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, I kind of zoned out there for a minute. What did you say?"

"I _said_, why do you think Professor Calvierri keeps staring over at the Slytherin table?" Hermione said with a touch of asperity in her voice. "_Honestly_."

Ignoring this last, Harry looked up at the staff table. Dumbledore had finished his speech during Harry's reminiscences, and most of the teachers were busy eating. The new DADA teacher, however, was staring hard at the Slytherin table, as though searching for something. Harry bit back another grin: apparently, Draco's vampiric signature had been spotted. He shrugged innocently.

"Maybe he doesn't like Slytherins."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, slowly returning to her dinner. Harry's friends had no knowledge of his relationship with Draco: he had told them that he was seeing someone from another House, but most people assumed it was someone from Ravenclaw - and a girl, for that matter. No one suspected Draco. The one-time infamous rivals had stopped fighting in public, a miracle in and of itself as far as most of the student body was concerned, but there was no hint in their daily interactions that they met after hours in darkened corridors to... well, engage in _extracurricular activities_.

Or at least, they had at first. These days, Harry had the password to Draco's private Head Boy chambers, and they spent their nights together in the luxury of Draco's ridiculously indulgent silk-sheeted cloud-soft bed. If there were advantages to having a vampire for your lover (such as having all wounds healed by the all-but-unbelievably-effective healing serum in his saliva, meant to stop victims from accidentally bleeding to death), there were definitely advantages to having the Slytherin Head Boy for your lover as well. Head Boy, because they got a private room: Slytherin, because the members of the House of Serpents were taught that if you could afford luxury, there was no shame in indulging. Harry was also coming to appreciate the value of a soft bed and a private room: if nothing else, it was nice to sometimes sleep in a quiet room that wasn't filled with the snoring of four other boys.

One thing that Harry had discovered about vampires, though, was that they were insanely territorial. Seamus had been flirting with Harry a few weeks before the end of term last spring, not out of any serious intent, but just because that was what Seamus did: Draco, though, barely restrained himself from racing across the Hall and tearing the Irish boy's throat out.

On the plus side, the possessive, jealous rage that Draco worked himself into made for some _fantastic _sex.

Still, if Draco was that squirrelly about Seamus, he was going to _flip_ now that there was another vampire in the school. Harry wondered if vampires could sense that someone had been marked as another vampire's mate, like werewolves could. He sincerely hoped so - and if not, he prayed that Professor Calvierri wouldn't even hint at taking an interest in Harry. If he did, there _would _be bloodshed.

Harry wasn't sure what Draco's feelings for him were, but he knew his feeling for Draco. Somehow, between an admittedly amazing frotting session in an abandoned hallway and the end of sixth year, Harry had fallen in love with his intensely seductive undead lover. Their forced separation over the summer had not dulled his feelings in the slightest, only intensified them and made them more painful. Completely surrounded by his friends on the train to the school, Harry had yet to see Draco alone, but they had written to each other over the summer and made plans for a reunion in Draco's rooms tonight. He hadn't told Draco of his increased feelings yet, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to take that risk: Draco had never given him any indication that he was in _love_ with Harry, just that he desired him. Of course, by the same token, he'd never indicated that he _didn't _love Harry either. He'd even stayed faithful to Harry, something that shocked the Boy Who Lived, who'd spent quite some time hearing tales of the Slytherin Prince's conquests. He didn't want to jeopardize what they had, but it would be wonderful if Draco returned his feelings... hell, were vampires even capable of love?

That might be one upside to having a vampire for a teacher, Harry thought suddenly. Surely Professor Calvierri could tell him whether vampires could fall in love? If it was at least possible, then he'd grab hold of his Gryffindor courage and confess to Draco. If there was no hope - then he'd enjoy what they had while it lasted, and count himself blessed that he'd had even this short time with Draco. Keep his heart protected, so that he wouldn't simply shatter when the vampire left him.

Even in the privacy of his own head, Harry had a hard time convincing himself that such an endeavor had any chance of success.

~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~

That night, after Ron and the other seventh-year boys had fallen asleep, Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak and crept out of the dormitory. He slipped out through the portrait hole and made his down the familiar pathway to the Head Boy's rooms. The portrait guarding them changed to reflect the House of the occupant: it was now a gleaming silver serpent, twisted and coiled in upon itself, in a knot so convoluted it was difficult to see where it began and ended. Harry smiled, anticipation thrumming in his veins.

"_Drákontos._" he whispered.

The portrait opened soundlessly, allowing him inside. The moment he crossed the enchanted threshold into the small common room/study area, he heard Draco's rich, sweet voice drifting from the bedroom.

"_Cold blows the wind o'er my true love, cold blow the drops of rain_

_I never had but one true love, and in green woods he lies slain_

_I'll do as much for my true love, as any young girl may_

_I'll sit and weep down by his grave, for twelve months and a day_

_But when twelve months they were up and gone, this young man, he arose_

_What makes you sit by my grave and weep? I can't take my repose._"

Harry crept to the doorway and leaned against the frame, heart catching in his chest. Draco was sprawled out atop the thick comforter, wearing green silk pyjama pants with no shirt: the deep green silk made a striking contrast with his alabaster skin. His eyes were closed, his hands folded under his head, as he sang softly to the empty room.

"_One kiss, one kiss from your lily-white lips: one kiss is all I crave_

_One kiss, one kiss from your lily-white lips, then return back to your grave_

_These lips, they are as cold as clay - my breath is heavy and strong_

_If you were to kiss these lily-white lips, your life would not be long_

_Oh don't you remember the garden grove where once we used to walk_

_Go pick me the finest flower of the morn: it will wither to a stalk..._"

Harry felt his heart flutter almost painfully as he watched the young vampire singing, his pale chest barely stirring, yet his voice rising and falling with the pure clarity of a professional singer's.

Then suddenly, Draco's eyes flared open, and he sat half-upright on the bed, gazing straight at where Harry stood still concealed by the invisibility cloak. Harry's breath hitched audibly, and Draco smiled wickedly, even as he continued to sing, his pale eyes fixated on Harry.

"_Go fetch me a flower from the dungeon deep, bring water from a stone_

_Bring white milk from a virgin's breast, that baby never bore none_

_Go dig me a grave both wide and deep: do it as quick as you may_

_That I may lay down and take a long sleep for twelve months and a day!_"

Harry, feeling suddenly breathless, tugged off the cloak. Draco's smile softened as he gazed at his Gryffindor lover, then he let the last notes of the song die and spoke, his voice a low hum of satisfaction.

"I missed you over the summer."

Harry felt a dazzling smile spread across his face as he moved forward, stopping out of reach of the vampire sprawled elegantly across the bed. "I missed you too." he admitted, drinking in the sight of his beloved.

Draco's smiled widened, and he lifted one eyebrow. "Where's my welcoming kiss, then, Potter?" Harry's surname was uttered not with the hate it had once held, but an affectionate teasing note that sent pleasurable tingles through his body.

Grinning like an idiot, Harry leaned down and pressed his lips against Draco's. The vampire moved with the languid grace of a predatory cat, already licking hungrily at Harry's lips as he reached up to wind his arms around the Gryffindor's torso. Harry let himself be pulled down onto the bed, deepening the kiss eagerly. He deliberately dragged his tongue along the tip of one of Draco's fangs, enjoying the vampire's strangled moan as a little of Harry's blood spilled into his mouth. With inhuman strength and a swift, sinuous movement, Draco flipped them over, pinning Harry underneath him. Harry sank back into the soft pillows, smiling in delight as his lover's cool hands skimmed down his sides. Draco straddled him, still stroking along his ribs and chest as he leaned down and purred, "You're becoming quite the teasing little minx, Harry. I might try to do something about that, if I didn't love it so much."

Harry arched under his much stronger lover, practically melting in pleasure as Draco easily ripped his shirt off and returned his hands to bare skin this time, slim fingers deftly finding all the places Harry was most sensitive. The touches were light and tormenting, teasing him until he was practically sobbing for more. Draco, his breathing unaffected even by the deliciously erotic sight of Harry Potter writhing underneath him, continued his deliberately torturous musing.

"I wonder what your little Gryffindor friends would think of this, Harry, if they could see you now? In bed with a vampire and, worse still, a Slytherin: imagine the Weaslette's shriek if she knew..."

"Merlin, Draco, stop teasing me!" Harry practically begged, shuddering under Draco's expert hands. "I've waited for this all summer, just fuck me, please!"

Draco chuckled, leaning down to ghost his lips over the racing pulse in Harry's throat. "Oh, I will." he promised, his voice thick with lust as he dug his rather sharp nails into Harry's chest, drawing a gasp and involuntary buck from the Boy Who Lived. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk without wincing for a _week_: I'm going to make absolutely certain that you'll be thinking about tonight for that long. And I'm going to make _absolutely sure_ that when you're in that bloody Italian's class tomorrow morning, all you can think about is me pounding you into the mattress."

"Draco!" The combination of the vampire's rich, silken voice and his sensual torment of Harry's upper body was enough to have the emerald-eyed teen practically mewling with lust. Draco finished tearing off the rest of Harry's clothing, eyes shining as he pounced on his prey.

He more than made good on his promises.

By the time Draco was done with him, Harry was utterly wrecked. There were love bites littered across his chest and shoulders, and a particularly vicious one right on his throat. His tan skin was sheened with sweat, his emerald eyes glazed over in lingering pleasure, his raven hair even more of a mess than it usually was. He was sprawled over the rumpled green silk sheets, far too exhausted to move, while Draco draped himself half-over Harry's pliant form and proceeded to continue licking at his neck like it was a particularly tasty lollipop. Harry succeeded in forcing his eyes to open and gazed up at Draco in tender amusement.

"That's a very odd habit, you know." he managed to croak, his throat hoarse from screaming.

"I can't help myself. You taste too good." Draco murmured, his own voice thick and slightly slurred from his recent surfeit of blood and pleasure. "Besides, if I left this many marks on you, your Gryffindork friends would think you were attacked by one of Hagrid's pets."

Harry chuckled tiredly, then remembered some of his musings from earlier. "I'm guessing Professor Calvierri can tell you're a vampire: will be he able to tell that we're together?"

"Depends." Draco said slowly. Harry blinked, fighting the pull of sleep.

"Depends on what?"

"On whether you let me leave this one." Draco touched the tip of a slender finger to the wound on Harry's throat. A slight smile flickered over Harry's face.

"So you want to leave the world's most noticeable hickey on my neck, right exactly in the one spot where my collar won't hide it, so that our new teacher won't make a move on me." He paused, making a show out of considering it, then met the slightly uncertain gaze of the vampire on top of him and grinned dazzlingly. "I don't see why not."

Draco beamed. "Thank you." he whispered, kissing Harry tenderly on the mouth. "You have no idea what that means to me, that you're willing to let me mark you..." He finished soothing the other bites, leaving the one on his neck mostly untouched, then settled down to lie close behind Harry with his arm draped over the Gryffindor's waist.

"Sleep. I'll wake you up in time for breakfast." he purred, lightly stroking Harry's raven hair. Harry managed a last, exhausted smile before he slid down into the velvet darkness, safe and secure in his vampire lover's embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Ah, the glory of reviews! To me, reviews are like gold and jewels: I simple want to stretch out on a giant heap of them and bask like a cat in sunlight. Such is a dragon's way of life. Anyway, thank you all for your feedback, I deeply appreciate it. **_

_**A note to PhoenixRose92: Yes, I would be delighted to write a Snames. It may have to wait a little while, since I've got seven WIPs right now... (I'm such a bad dragon)... but I've definitely got some ideas! **_

_**A.N.2: Well, nice to know you all liked the smut. I was feeling inspired at the time, and when I went back over it later I was like: Oh My Merlin, did I actually WRITE that? There's not so much smut in this one - more plot development, which is perhaps less satisfying but definitely necessary - but the next one will be nice and smutty again, so never fear. I'd already spent long enough getting this one out, I figured I'd better update and worry about smut later, since that takes even longer to write than the rest. **_

Harry walked into the Great Hall the next morning with a satisfied grin on his face, walking carefully to disguise his slight limp as much as possible. Ron and Hermione were already sitting down at the Gryffindor table: as Harry slid into the seat between them, Ron turned to him, beaming.

"Hey, Harry, we were just - Merlin's grey beard! What the hell happened to you?"

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Hermione looked caught between horror and amusement. "Harry, you have a massive hickey on your neck. It looks like you were bitten by a rabid dog."

"Oh, really?" Harry said nonchalantly, setting about buttering his toast. "I guess we did get a bit carried away last night..."

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and Seamus thumped him on the back. The Irish boy was grinning brightly. "You seeing someone, Harry? She must be a real vixen if she gave you that giant bloody mark!"

Harry smirked. After their conversation last night, Harry was reasonably assured that Draco wouldn't be upset if Harry hinted a little at their relationship, and Harry himself was very tired of having to constantly lie to his best friends about where he went and who he was seeing. "Who says it was a girl?"

Ron choked again and stared at him, his whole front now dripping with pumpkin juice. "You're gay? Bloody hell, mate, I didn't see that coming!"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, well, you never asked. I've known for a while now." He reached up absently to touch the tender skin of the bite mark. "I guess he got a little reckless last night, we've been trying not to leave marks."

Hermione blinked. "Because he's from another House?"

Harry grinned at her. "Well, that and because it's so much more fun having a secret affair."

Dean laughed. "Okay, who are you and what did you do with our shy, bashful Harry? You know, the one that blushed even talking about a girl?"

Harry smirked. "Oh, he hasn't been around for a while.

...

Of course, Professor Calvierri's first lesson was an overview of vampires: it was his only option, really. Everyone in the class - well, everyone except Harry - was bursting with questions about vampires, and if he had tried to teach the class about Grindylows or something similar he would have made absolutely no progress.

It was Lavender Brown who really brought the topic into uncomfortable territory. "Professor, I heard that vampires have one predestined mate, like werewolves. Is that true?"

Harry's heart was suddenly beating very fast, but the Professor shook his head. "That's a common mistake, Miss Brown, but no. A vampire may choose their partner just as freely as any human."

"Oh." Was it Harry's imagination, or did Lavender look slightly disappointed? He restrained a disparaging snort: she probably thought the idea of a vampire having 'one true love' was terribly romantic. She wasn't in love with one, though. Well, not knowingly - more than half the school seemed to think themselves in love with Draco Malfoy. Harry had inquired about that one night: Draco just laughed it off, making an offhanded comment about 'secret vampire pheromones'.

The rest of the class passed fairly uneventfully, although there were several times when Harry caught the vampire looking at him oddly. It was starting to make him slightly uncomfortable: was the teacher setting off his warning instincts just because he was a vampire, or was there something more going on? When Professor Calvierri dismissed them, though, Harry made a split-second decision. He was going to go for it, and ask the teacher about the possibility of Draco loving him. He had to know if there was a chance.

As the rest of the class stood up, Harry swallowed down the lump of nerves in his throat and gestured to Ron and Hermione. "You guys go on ahead, I want to ask the teacher something in private."

Both gave him puzzled looks, but obeyed without question, leaving him alone with the dark-haired vampire. Harry moved up to stand in front of the desk, ill at ease. "Professor Calvierri, I have a rather... odd question about vampires."

The vampire looked up, his dark eyes curious. "Oh?" His eyes shifted to Harry's neck, and an indecipherable look flashed across his face. "Does this have to do with the young Slytherin who has put a claiming mark on your neck?"

Harry blushed slightly at the thought of how that mark had gotten there. "Well, yes, sir. I was wondering if you could tell me... can vampires feel love?"

Calvierri's eyebrows shot up and he stared at Harry in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry shifted, a little uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. His danger alarms were beginning to jangle again, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was merely the man's vampirism or something more sinister. There was something in his eyes... "It's just... I was wondering, because some people seem to think that vampires don't really have that kind of emotion, yet I don't see how someone with so many other human facets could lack that..."

Calvierri stared at him for a long, unsettling moment, then he shook his head. "I'm afraid I cannot help you, Mr. Potter. I cannot speak for all vampires, of course, but I have yet to meet one that showed any signs of being in love. I suspect that love, like many emotions, is one that cannot be sustained unless one is truly alive."

Harry's heart should have plummeted. He should have been distraught. But as the teacher spoke, looking down at his papers, Harry caught a flash of something in his eyes that set his instincts screaming a warning. _He's lying!_

Harry's danger signals were all going off, now: he could actually feel his skin prickling. Something was seriously wrong here, and he needed to back off and determine a safer way to find out. Pasting a crushed look across his face, he summoned up a tiny, sad smile for the teacher. "Oh. Alright then, Professor. I'll just go to lunch..."

The Professor nodded, his dark eyes filled with sympathy. "I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. Potter."

The dark eyes glittered.

_Liar! _

Harry mumbled something polite and fled.

He'd thought there was something a bit off last night at the feast when Hermione mentioned Calvierri staring so intently at the Slytherin table, but he'd been too distracted by thoughts of Draco to really think about it. Now, though, his mind was throwing up warning signs at every turn. Why did the vampiric teacher seem so intensely interested in Harry? And why would he lie about a vampire's capacity to love?

_To break up you and Draco? But why would he want that? Think, Harry, think - motivation. That's what reveals the culprit, the motive. That's why you thought it was Snape after the Stone when it was really Quirrell - you got hung up on suspicions and didn't look for the motive. Come on, think! Perhaps Draco's paranoia isn't paranoia after all, and Calvierri's looking to steal you away? No, then he wouldn't have closed the door on pretending to love you. Draco. Draco might know. _

Decision made, Harry took off toward the dungeons. He found Draco in the Entrance Hall, just coming up from Potions on his way to lunch, accompanied only by Pansy Parkinson. Throwing caution to the winds, and thoroughly glad that they are the only people in the Hall at the moment, Harry sprinted up to them.

"Draco, I need to talk to you alone, _now_."

Something flashed in the vampire's silver eyes, and he nodded curtly, ignoring Pansy's splutter. "Go to lunch, Pansy, I'll be along in a minute."

He followed Harry into a small empty classroom and waited, eyebrows lifting. "Judging from how pale you are, this must be serious." he said quietly, stepping close to Harry, his hand lifting to cup Harry's cheek in a familiar, soothing motion. "What is it?"

Harry drew a deep breath. "I will explain in a minute, but first, I have to tell you something. I-" he looked up into Draco's silver eyes, and let the words flow freely. "I love you. I don't know when I fell, but I realized it over the summer, when all I could think about for every waking moment was being with you again."

Draco's eyes widened and he seemed to stop breathing entirely - then the next moment he swooped down and pressed his lips against Harry's, in a kiss so achingly tender that Harry's heart fluttered in his chest. Draco pulled back, gazing down into Harry's green eyes, his own silver gaze filled with tenderness.

"I love you too, Harry."

Harry's heart soared, and he felt a dazzling grin break out over his face. "You do?"

Draco nodded, eyes shining. "Of course. I would have told you sooner, but... I was worried I might frighten you away. It's one thing to be in a relationship with someone - some_thing_ - like myself, but it's another entirely to know that said someone is in love with you."

Harry flung himself into Draco's arms, holding the young vampire tightly as he whispered, "I couldn't ask for anything more."

They held each other for a moment, then Draco reluctantly drew back. "Now, what sent you into such a panic?"

The memories crashed down over Harry again, and he swallowed hard. "Oh, yeah. I was just in Defence, and - Draco, you were right. There's something seriously wrong about Professor Calvierri. He taught today's class about vampires, but he stared at me nearly the whole time, and it made my skin crawl. Worse, he lied to my face."

Draco frowned. "About what?"

Harry winced. "I... I've never doubted you, Draco, but I wasn't sure how to go about telling you that I loved you and I was scared to lose you if you didn't love me back. You know how many rumors there are that vampires can't feel love. I waited after class and asked Professor Calvierri if vampires were capable of loving a person: he said no. But I trust you, Draco, I'm sure that you would never lie to me - and the minute he said it I felt like he was lying. I have pretty good instincts for stuff like that. Which leads me to believe that for whatever reason, Professor Calvierri just tried to break us up."

Draco's expression darkened, and Harry caught a glimpse of his lethal fangs. "That bastard... why do you think he would do that?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. "That's what I wanted to ask you. I figure he's already ruled himself out as wanting to steal me from you - if that was his aim he wouldn't have excluded the possibility of pretending to love me so soon. He must see you as a threat for some non-romantic reason, and I can't think of a single one of those reasons that could be anywhere close to good."

Draco was silent for a moment, then he muttered, "The Calvierris are Italian. If he... Merlin. Harry, I don't want you alone with Calvierri for even a minute, do you understand me? If this is headed where I think it might be, you could be in terrible danger."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?" He reached out to grasp Draco's arm, bewildered. "Draco, what exactly are you thinking?"

"The Italian clans have been far more involved in wizarding politics than the Irish ones." Draco said quietly, wrapping his arms tightly around Harry's waist as though to shield him from some threat. "Some of them have even begun choosing sides in your elections... and in your wars."

Harry stiffened in his lover's embrace, looking up with narrowed eyes. "You think he's working for You-Know-Who."

Draco hesitated. "It's too soon to say that yet, but it's certainly a possibility." He closed his eyes briefly, considering. "If you were not involved with me, it would be a simple matter to deal with you on Voldemort's behalf: he would swoop in, dispose of you or claim you himself, and swoop right back out. The trouble is, since I've already formally claimed you by this mark," he touched a slender finger gently to the livid bite, "by even approaching you he would be breaking more than a dozen of our oldest, strongest laws. It's so difficult to find humans who are even willing to feed us, much less those that can actually lay aside their fears enough to develop an emotional attachment, that we have a ridiculous amount of laws protecting the sanctity of human-vampire relationships. Even the Ministry of Magic wouldn't dream of trying to separate a vampire from their willing partner: humans who otherwise would have wound up in Azkaban have escaped with lighter sentences because they had vampiric lovers. If Calvierri intends to so much as lay a finger on you, he has to break us up first, or he'll have the entire Council of Shadows down on his head..."

Harry blinked. "Council of Shadows?"

Draco pulled himself out of his musings and smiled wryly at his curious lover. "Damn. I shouldn't have said that, but... the Council of Shadows is our governing body. It's comprised of all the Clan leaders from all over the world. Certain clans have a higher ranking than others: the _Tiarnaí Scáth, _the clan my family belongs to, is one of the highest-ranking clans in Europe. That's another reason Calvierri can't touch you: he doesn't dare risk angering my clan. Even though I have human blood in my line, I could destroy him, politically and probably literally. The more powerful a vampire's clan, the greater their personal strength."

Harry smiled up at him, his eyes shining softly. "I love you, Draco. And I love that you trust me enough to tell me this stuff. How can we figure out what Calvierri's really up to?"

"I'll speak with some of my contacts." Draco murmured. He bent his head suddenly, nuzzling at the side of Harry's neck: the dark-haired teen's breath caught as he felt the brush of cold fangs on his skin, and he automatically tipped his head further back, offering Draco his throat. The vampire purred slightly, clearly pleased, as he licked lightly at Harry's skin. "I want you to stay close to me whenever possible, Harry. I don't trust Calvierri in the slightest, and I... I need to know that you're safe. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

Harry sighed happily, melting into Draco's arms. A thought occurred to him, and he looked up at Draco. "Shouldn't we tell Dumbledore what's going on?"

Draco's eyes darkened suddenly, and his hands splayed over Harry's back, pressing him closer. "Harry... had the Headmaster shown any inclination toward hiring such dangerous teachers in the past, unless he had a very good reason?"

Harry blinked in puzzlement, but he really did think about it - and as he did so, his blood ran cold.

He could think of only three teachers at Hogwarts that some had termed dangerous. There was Hagrid, whose only crimes were over-enthusiasm and a certain rose-colored-glasses effect when it came to dangerous beasts. Then there was Lupin, who took Wolfsbane religiously and was the kindest, gentlest man imaginable when it wasn't a full moon. Lastly was Firenze, who was in fact not truly dangerous at all, and might have died if Dumbledore hadn't taken him in. None of those were anything close to Calvierri.

When he spoke, Harry heard his voice quiver slightly. "Draco, you don't... you don't think Dumbledore knows that Calvierri's up to something, do you?"

Draco's expression was grim. "I don't know, love. However, I do find it highly suspicious that he _just happened_ to hire a vampire from one of the most politically active clans in Europe. I can't imagine what he's playing at, unless... no. Better not to think about that for now." He dipped his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's forehead. "Don't worry yourself too much for now, my love. Just watch your back, and don't ever let him catch you alone. If you have to, tell Granger and Weasley that your scar has been hurting or something, convince them to follow you. Just... stay safe."

"I will, Drake." Harry promised softly, kissing his vampire gently on the lips. "I love you more than anything: I'll be careful, for you. You too, alright?"

"Absolutely." Draco said softly, drawing him back in for another, much longer kiss. By the time it ended they were both short of breath: Draco smoothed Harry's messy black hair out of his face tenderly. "I've got to take care of something now, but I'll see you at dinner, alright? And I want you to stay with me again tonight."

Harry smiled. "Sure, Drake. I'll see you tonight."

They shared a last, swift kiss, then Draco slipped away and headed back down to the dungeons. Harry made his way to lunch, where he was faced with curious questions from Ron and Hermione: when he told them that he wasn't feeling well and that his scar was hurting a bit, they latched onto him like barnacles, swearing that they would keep an eye on him in case anything happened. For once, he didn't protest the treatment, just smiled and was grateful for their concern.

He hoped that they would understand when he eventually told them about Draco. He loved the blond vampire as much as life itself, but it would be wonderful it he could keep his friends as well. If they forced him to choose, though... he already knew what his choice would be.

He had already made it, on a stormy night almost two years ago.


End file.
